


The Road

by Bluesjeanne



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftermath, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Healing, M/M, Post-Movie: The Old Guard (2020), Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27941702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluesjeanne/pseuds/Bluesjeanne
Summary: Joe and Nicky deal with the aftermath of Booker's betrayal, with Joe remembering past events that led them to where they are.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Kudos: 50





	The Road

It wasn’t surprising that the car ride was quiet as they fled the scene; there was a pending discussion no one wanted to have, after all.

A repentant traitor sat in the back seat. His judges filled the rest of the small vehicle. Judgment was coming, a sentence to be handed down, but no one was eager for it. So silence filled the space, everyone wary of starting a conversation that could end in a conviction. It was only broken as Handi-wipes were passed around to wipe blood off their faces. Nile had been surprised at first, but realized this probably wasn’t the first time they’d driven away from somewhere with blood on their faces. Keeping a pack of wipes in any of their vehicles made sense. At least they all looked a bit better.

After several minutes that felt like hours, Andy pulled into an ally. Wordlessly, she got out with the others following.

“Nicky and Joe, see if you can clean the Paris safe house. I don’t want anything tracing back to Merrick if we can help it,” she said. 

“Got it, Boss,” said Joe, putting his hand out for the car keys. Andy tossed them to him. It would take about 7 hours to get back there, but they were well-experienced with long travels. 

“In three days, we’ll meet at the pub in the afternoon and decide what we do next.” Looking pointedly at Booker, she continued. “Don’t make us find you.”

“I’ll be there,” he assured them. Joe scoffed, but kept his remarks about trusting their betrayer to himself. 

“I’ll stick with you, Andy, seeing as I’m the only one who doesn’t know where The Pub is,” Nile said. She intentionally left out the part about Andy needing someone to tend to her wounds. She’d realized Andy would be stubborn about needing someone’s help, and the others, aside from concerned looks, knew better than to press their leader about her condition.

Andy nodded her approval. “No contact before then.”

“Well, Nicky and Joe probably want some alone time anyways,” said Nile, gesturing to the couple, before realizing a sudden shift in the group. They seemed quieter. “What?”

Booker cleared his throat before leaning over, “No one ever really says that out loud.”

“Oh.” She was confused, but added it to the list of things they’d have to elaborate about. It was right after “locations of all safe houses” but before “what time is ‘afternoon?’” and “what pub is ‘The Pub?’”

“Afternoon is fine,” said Joe, fully aware of why they didn’t mention needing “alone time.” He headed to the car’s driver’s side.

“Late afternoon,” countered Nicky. “More time might be good for all of us.”

“Okay,” agreed Andy. She took an appraising look at Nicky before turning to leave, slightly surprised by his request for more time. He was far from an impatient individual, but he rarely suggested prolonging their group reuniting like this. Perhaps it was for Joe, to give his other half time to calm his emotions which, in a way, was for himself, so he could be there for this other half. Perhaps it was so Andy could heal more, without too many watchful eyes assessing her health. Or perhaps it was so Booker could mount a good defense for his actions. 

Despite how much time they’d lived and still could, Andy couldn’t deny they could all use a little more of it.

Nile gave a curt nod to Nicky and Joe before catching up with Andy. Booker simply resorted to looking at the ground while walking in the opposite direction. Joe got in the car and waited, knowing Nicky would watch the others’ retreating forms a bit longer. 

He started the vehicle, wishing they didn’t have this last mission, simple as it was. All he wanted was to hug Nicky, a solid reassurance that they were okay, but the job would come first. They had to clean a mess created by their brother-in-arms, reclaim their swords and anything else they could recover before anyone stumbled upon the massacre and the authorities collected everything as evidence for a case they would hopefully never solve. He understood the need for this, why Andy had directed them instead of insisting she would do it in her wounded state. Nicky, he knew, understood all this too. They were a couple inside a family of sorts. They could take comfort in reassuring glances and brief touches during a mission, denying anything more for themselves if necessary.

He didn’t have to like it, however.

Nicky got in the car, smiling softly as soon as he looked at Joe. He let out a sigh, visibly relaxing. Joe reached out for his hand, holding on to it was they drove away. There was much he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to have an emotional conversation in the car on their way to the compromised safe house. Besides, he knew there was an argument ahead and he desperately wanted to postpone it as long as possible.

Luckily, it seemed Nicky felt the same way. Instead, they focused on the drive and the job. Nicky recounted what he could remember of the attack at the church. Joe added what he could. Then they set out who would go for what, what they should look for, how far away they should park, and all other details to make things run as smoothly as possible. It was an easy discussion, with little disagreement until Joe turned left at one point.

“Why did you turn here? We should have gone straight,” said Nicky.

“This way is faster.”

“No this way is longer,” Nicky disagreed. “You always insist this road is faster and it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, the other way—“

“Was faster until they extended this road.”

“You’re thinking of another road. This one we always say should be extended, which is why the other road is faster.”

“That way hasn’t been faster since the 90’s,” Joe countered. Usually he’d have been tempted to make a joke about a headshot scrambling a brain, but the recent revelation about Andy’s mortality has made such a comment a disheartening reminder. 

“It’s too late to turn back now anyway,” announced Nicky. “I’ll drive from the safe house. Then we can arrive somewhere before dark.” 

They shared a laugh. Matter resolved. Music turned up to enjoy comfortable silence.

Joe could still remember how it was when they were first together, how this disagreement wouldn’t have been possible. While it was true they have always been together since they first killed each other, they hadn’t been a couple. They had barely been a pair. Two enemies with a common goal was the true definition of their early situation. 

Joe knew Booker didn’t understand how it was. He was pretty sure even Andy didn’t full realize what that was like. They both made comments here and there that suggested it was better that he and Nicky discovered their immortality together, with someone else like themselves. In truth, it was an experience that still haunted them. 

They had risen on a battlefield, having clearly killed each other. Despite returning fully healed and with another person doing the same, there was no comfort in the event. Neither man knew if one was a demon or angel, if they were in a type of purgatory or hell. Their worlds had shattered. In too many ways, they were alone, despite standing next someone with the same infliction. They killed each other multiple times, becoming a rather cruel definition of insanity: repeating the same thing over and over, while expecting a different result. The cycle only ended when Nicolo had decided to defend some kids from less scrupulous crusaders and Yusuf decided not killing him would be better. It was hardly a solid foundation of trust. They agreed to a truce out of necessity. Then they discovered they both dreamt of the same women and it became their shared goal to find them to get answers.

However, a truce born from necessity is often flimsy and theirs broke often. They were still enemies, taught to hate each other. Almost every action and suggestion was met with distrust. Comradery could instantly give way to confrontation. Days and nights were spent cautiously watching the other man, and trying to hide any weaknesses. Inside they struggled with losing everything, their lives, their families, their friends, and nearly everything they thought they knew about life and death. Outside, they projected false strength and confidence, as if they were certain how to find the women or cuts didn’t hurt or they didn’t feel a constant need to simply cry and scream. It was confusing, terrifying, and lonely. Even as they slowly learnt to communicate with each other in a reliable manner, it was a long road before they’d admit they were true allies. Their arguments back then were vicious, littered with brutal reminders that Nicolo had been with the Crusaders who’d murdered Yusuf’s friends, and that Yusuf was most certainly a cowardly heathen who ran from his home to ride with said murderer.

Yet, they always came back to each other, shackled together on a mission. If not for the dreams being different so they constantly compared their nightly visions to figure out where to travel, the two would likely have left the other for good. But they needed each other so they stayed. Over time, even with arguments, they began trusting. Slowly, at first, then enough to confess confusion and doubt. Then they admitted fears and shared stories. They relaxed at night, able to believe the other man would be a protector. Later, they would sleep closer and ride closer during the day, eager to converse on almost any subject regardless of how ridiculous it might seem. They still didn’t agree on everything, but their arguments had changed. It had taken years, but it had happened. 

Years for the hate to bleed from them, as Joe tended to think of it. All the hate that had flowed in their veins slowly draining away with their bloodshed. It’s how he believed they could become the couple who’d finally discovered the two women. They could disagree but without any blows. They were truly together by then, a solid force.

They still were, which was why Joe wanted to avoid the argument he knew they’d have about Booker. Joe could not forgive him. He couldn’t overlook how their friend had betrayed them all, gotten Nicky and him captured for experiments. It would have been one thing if only Joe had been attacked, but hurting Nicky was another. The man had been too good to Booker, as far as Joe was concerned. He knew Nicky looked for the “betting baklava” as much to test Andy as to keep Booker interacting with the group, smiling and laughing. They’d separated for a year and Nicky made sure to check on him, which made Joe check on him. They knew about his ever present flask. Nicky noticed it first because he always noticed stuff like that. He was far too kind, and Booker was an ungrateful traitor, and Nicky would still be compelled to forgive him. And Joe couldn’t. 

Nicky would bring up all the pain Booker dealt with, the dreams of Quynn that hadn’t stopped, the pain of his lost sons, and his failed attempts to numb himself with alcohol. He’d talk about not judging someone’s suffering and trying to understand Booker’s motives. There’d be points made of being a family and how sorry Booker seemed. And Joe wouldn’t care because Booker had attacked Nicky. At least, that’s how he saw things. An indirect attack, but an attack on Nicky. So they would undoubtedly fight when Joe wanted to simply love Nicky, hug him and hold him and feel him alive and well.

When he glanced at Nicky, it was clear this was on his mind too. Joe was tempted to say something, try to talk things out as much as he hated what would follow. However, there was a mission to finish and the EuroTunnel back to France was only a few minutes away. It was better if they stayed focused at this point. They certainly didn’t need to draw attention to themselves. Nicky pressed his head further into his headrest, better to hide his previous injuries. Joe suddenly wished he had taken Nicky’s suggestion; a longer route would have given him more time.

They listened to music for the rest of the way. Effectively avoiding any serious conversations.

They pulled up near the old church, checking out the area. Then they proceeded to sweep the place of their presence with quick efficiency. Nicky focused on gathering any weapons and belongings that might link them to the location. He found their swords quickly. They had no intentions of burying any of the bodies, but Joe checked each one he found to remove anything that could lead back to Merrick. He’d dump anything remotely incriminating into a river on their ride back. At one point, Nicky grabbed his attention to ask if he’d brought another baseball cap. 

It was going to be used to help hide the bloody mess at the back of Nicky’s head. They couldn’t wash his hair out here without staying longer than they wanted. Yet Keane’s headshot had left Nicky’s hair matted with blood and that had to be covered if they were going anywhere someone might notice. 

“No,” Joe said, sad his cap was going to be ruined. “Use it.”

Nicky nodded his thanks before putting it on backwards.

The image didn’t suit him as well as it did Joe, but it would work and that’s all that really mattered. Besides, Joe had seen Nicky with so many different looks over the centuries that it wasn’t all that jarring. They had seen each other through various fads and trends and even whims. Clean shaven to thick beards, long hair to nearly shaved, suits, piercings, baggy pants and skinny jeans. From big hats to braids with ribbon, capes, caps, and everything else. Joe could recall Nicky seeing him with a hat on backwards for the first time, brow knitting together. 

“How’s that going to shield your eyes from the sun?” he’d asked.

“It doesn’t,” Joe had replied. “All the cool kids are doing it though.”

“Ah, fashion,” Nicky had sighed before coming closer. He’d leaned in and gave a quick kiss. “Easier access this way. I guess it has its advantages.”

Joe had laughed. “Easier access for more than just one kiss.”

There would be no kisses for them now, though. They were professional on missions. So Joe made no comments about Nicky wearing his hat and Nicky went back to his task. He’d already grabbed a light jacket to cover his bullet-hole ridden shirt. Joe took a leather jacket. They finished soon after and were driving away, pleased with a job well done. 

“I want a decent room,” Nicky stated. His eyes didn’t leave the road. “I would like to go out tonight.”

“Not exactly low profile,” Joe said.

“Andy didn’t say that. It’s optional,” Nicky responded, giving a quick glance to Joe.

Joe knew Andy probably hadn’t said it because it was assumed. They should stay inside as much as possible, ensure few people saw them until they knew the full fallout of Merrick and Copley. Of course, Nicky would know that too.

“Sounds good. What are you planning?”

“The hotel we stayed in last time we were near Paris. Remember?”

A slow smile spread across Joe’s face. “Oh, I remember. That was a nice bed. Sturdy posts.”

Nicky returned his smile. “Yes. We’ll go there. Clean up. Then go to dinner wherever you want.”

“You’re letting me pick?” 

“Anywhere.”

It wasn’t that Joe didn’t pick good restaurants. It was that they usually discussed what they were in the mood for. They’d long passed the “anywhere is fine. where do you want to go” questioning loop phase in relationships. One would either suggest a specific restaurant or cuisine and they’d decide from there. Tonight, Nicky was letting Joe pick without input.

“Are you okay?” Joe asked.

“I just need to be with people tonight. I need to be with you in the world.”

Joe gave a slow nod. “All right. If this is about Booker, we could talk about it. I know I’m a bit stubborn, but I’m feeling less pig-headed today.”

“We’re both stubborn about things,” said Nicky. “But I don’t… I’m not ready to talk about that yet. Still processing.”

Joe could understand so he took Nicky’s hand, giving it a brief squeeze. They drove in comfortable silence, aside from when they found a proper river to dump their Merrick items in. 

Nicky and Joe had showered quickly at the hotel. Joe felt like they were on another mission somehow. They had hugged when they’d entered the room. Held on tightly before trading a few kisses, but there had been little more. Joe was still avoiding the Booker argument as, it seemed, was Nicky. This meant conservation was a bit stilted. They mainly focused on securing a room, getting Nicky in without his bloody scalp getting noticed. They took turns in the shower to scrub off blood and glue used for the medical monitor pads. Drying off and changing clothes with only a couple comments demonstrating appreciation of each other’s body. Then they left.

Dinner was remarkably better. Out in public, surrounded by busy and loud tables, Joe and Nicky easily lost their troubled thoughts. Instead they talked about food and old times. They held hands and stole glances. Nicky’s mind only seemed to wander a couple of times, but then he’d take a deep breath and he was back. 

Afterwards, Joe took them to a nearby club. They had passed it on the way to the restaurant and Joe could feel a bit of the music outside, making a mental note to return. They had a couple drinks before the beat got to Joe. Nicky stood by their tall table while he danced, enjoying the rhythm and watching his love. It took slightly longer than usual, but Nicky finally finished his drink and made his way to Joe. It was exactly what he had hoped for. He was treated to dancing with his partner. Joe loved watching Nicky like this. When he finally gave into the feeling, the ebb and flow, all their training became useful to move gracefully on the floor. Nothing deadly about it. Simply fun, surrounded by others and yet only concentrating on each other.

Because Nicky was deadly. Joe knew that better than anyone. Not simply because he’d been killed by Nicky more than anyone. Or because he’d been in more battles with Nicky than anyone. He’d witnessed Nicky grow as a soldier, had trained with him, sparred with him more than anyone. He was there as Nicky mastered guns all the way to sniper rifles. He was there as Nicky perfected his sword fighting, demonstrated how easily a proper broadsword could be used one-handed. He was there for match after match to hone techniques and fighting styles. He was there for hand to hand combat and runs and work outs. He was also there when Nicky got angry in a fight, when Nicolo the former crusader, current strike specialist utilized his skills and form. He was there when someone dared kill Joe. There to see the sneer marking his wonderful face before he turned his focus from his injured love to whatever idiot foolishly attracted his wrath. Joe knew how beautiful his lover was, loved him even more because that man was also unbelievably kind and could use a body honed for deadly acts to move so wonderfully on a dance floor. 

It didn’t take long for Nicky to read the intensifying look in his eyes. 

“Shall we?” He said before kissing Joe.

“Yes.”

They walked back to the hotel and their room hand in hand, grinning like fools. It felt good. Joe loved how matter-of-fact Nicky was about their relationship. He may have been the incurable romantic, but his partner was never shy about their relationship.

All those centuries ago, when they’d first found Andy and Quynn, Joe had worried what would happen between him and Nicolo. They were definitely a couple, but they were meeting the women of their dreams, literally. Others of their kind who could perhaps woo his Nicolo. They weren’t his former enemies, after all. They hadn’t killed his friends in battle. They were also women, the gender Nicolo and Yusuf were supposed to desire. 

Nicolo had nearly been engaged when he entered the Crusades. He had said he would have been, if not for word that his brothers died in battle. Their deaths had to be avenged and the engagement would have to wait. His family would right this wrong, strike down the godless killers. He had sworn an oath to God, had assured his girlfriend that he would return with honour and God on his side.

Yusuf had been a widower when he entered the fray. His wife and daughter had died years before, the medicines to cure their illness not to be discovered until centuries later. He’d only started to look for other possible wives when the news of war came to his city. It seemed only right that a man with no wife or children left should risk his life to protect what did remain. 

Still they found each other, through death, it seemed. Reborn thousands of times, the hate that had filled their lives dying out until it was Yusuf and Nicolo who made sense together, who fit together so perfectly. The hateful widower and bitter almost fiancé transforming into a widower and a bachelor. 

Yusuf could remember talking to Andy and Quynn. Them deciding to make camp together and him wondering if Nicolo would downplay their relationship, or abandon it. He had never tried to keep it a secret really. He was just very reserved in certain company. 

“You can set up your stuff over there,” Andy had said. Already giving commands.

“He and I sleep together,” Nicolo had announced. He’d said it with authority, an unspoken challenge in his words. 

Joe had merely looked at him, surprised by the abruptness. His heart was testing if that would be an issue, and making it clear they would not bother staying if it was.

Quynn and Andy had shared a look, amused and surprised. 

“As long as you don’t expect me to join you,” Andy had quipped with Quynn nodding slightly in agreement.

Nicolo had given him a triumphant smile. 

“No,” Yusuf had said, meeting his lover’s eyes. “We only prefer each other.”

Over 900 years later and the sentiment still held true.

They may have travelled with Andy and Booker, but it was still only them. A mature love that could be satisfied or stoked depending on the situation. They tried to be respectful to the others; Andy who had lost Quynn and Booker who had lost his family. Their relationship was established, but not to the point of being hurtful to the rest of their family. They didn’t ask for “alone time,” merely took advantage of separate rooms or times between jobs. Sleeping close to each other was something they had tried to avoid at first, but realized it had become a habit. They just naturally gravitated towards each other at night. Nicky had been frustrated at first by the revelation because he was incredibly kind and conscious of what Andy and Booker were dealing with. Joe had loved the idea that, even in sleep, their bodies and hearts found one another. Of course, he was a romantic.

The hotel room door lock clicked into place and Joe turned his attention to Nicky. The love of his life was already throwing his jacket over a chair and giving him a mischievous smile. He was grateful for Nicky’s choice in hotels. They would definitely be safe so they could focus on each other without worry of interruptions like lost travellers or stray animals or leaking pipes or gunfire. He very much wanted to focus entirely on his love.

They began kissing. It had been too long, though it often felt that way.

Unfortunately, Joe could feel Nicky fighting to enjoy it. There was a simple sensation that the other man was kissing but not as into as expected.

“What’s wrong,” he asked pulling away.

Nicky rubbed his face, as if trying to pull his thoughts away. “Sorry. My mind is going where it shouldn’t.”

His mind had a way of doing that. 

“It’s fine,” he said. “We can talk through this.”

“I don’t want to,” Nicky stated. “I don’t.”

“Nicolo.” His reassuring tone was the push needed.

“I don’t like feeling like this. My mind is so confused and I cannot lose this feeling and I am trying to.” Nicky took a deep breath, his eyes pleading with Joe. At first, it seemed like a need for understanding. Then Joe realized what it really is: a need for forgiveness. “I don’t want to hate Book.”

“Let’s sit on the bed and talk,” he suggested. 

Nicky nodded and walked over. They sat next to each other, holding hands, and Joe waited for Nicky to continue.

“I am angry that he betrayed us. I am angry that everything we did didn’t matter. I am hurt that he knew— he knew what they would do and he still sent us to that fate. He let us be maimed, trotted off like livestock, and he was fine with it. I was to see you die numerous times… I cannot forgive him. I want to. I remember reasons why and they are meaningless when I remember what they would have done to us. I hate him and want to love him, but I don’t know and I hate feeling this kind of hate. I try not to think of it, but my mind slips and it’s back. And the more it slips back, the more the anger rises.”

Joe was silent as he processed everything. He’d expected Nicky to be different about this, to be more his usual self and less like Joe. He was caught off guard, suddenly confronting a mirror of his feelings. It would have been easy to agree with everything, tell Nicky that they should hate Booker, damn him tomorrow for his treachery. Yet, he knew Nicky, his kind-hearted Nicolo, needed more.

“It’s not wrong to feel that way,” he began.

“We always tried to include him, to get him to talk.”

“I learnt about football so I could watch games with him,” Joe offered. He ended up enjoying the sport, but that was besides the point.

“We were there. Always. And still this,” Nicky huffed. “And to condemn me to watching you die over and over, prodded and stabbed…. was all of it meaningless?”

“Nicolo.”

“I talk of destiny and fate, of doing the right thing. How did I fail him if that’s true?” Nicky continued, spilling his thoughts. “What if Andy was right? What if we aren’t making a difference?”

For that question alone, Joe would kill Booker if he could. That this doubt could surface, voiced by Nicky of all people. They’d been ambushed and slaughtered under the illusion of saving innocent little girls for Copely, and Nicky’s first question after they’d killed their killers was about those supposed girls. Joe had been pissed off for being shot up, as had Andy. But his precious love had been focused on the children. Keane had shot him in the head in Merrick’s building and upon waking, his first words to Joe had basically been concern for Andy. 

Such compassion is perhaps what drew Yusuf to Nicolo from the start. That unwavering kindness, desire to do what was right. He will always remember the anguish in Nicolo’s voice as he confessed, “I am so sorry for how I hurt you and your people. I thought we were saving souls. What they told us. What I was taught to believe… I am such a fool.”

Since then, Nicky had been so careful about trying to do what was right. He was putting good back in the world. Sometimes Joe thought he did it as penance. Other times he thought it was to strengthen his belief in destiny, his way of dealing with loss faith in a religion. Mostly, Joe knew it was part of who Nicky was, always believing they could save the world, always finding ways to spread peace and kindness.

Yet, thanks to Booker’s betrayal, he had doubts. 

“We couldn’t save him, Joe,” Nicky said, closing his eyes to fight back tears. “What good are we, if we can’t save one of our own?”

“We tried. He pushed us away,” he said comfortingly. “You know we tried. We didn’t give up on him.”

“But what good was it? You heard him in the lab. He was doing it for Andy too, so they could both find an escape.” Nicky looked at him, glossy eyes begging for answers. “We failed them. Booker knew.”

“Booker knew pain and wallowed in it,” he said frankly. “We tried to pull him out, and he chose to stay there.”

“We should have stayed with him this past year. Not just visits or calls.”

“He wouldn’t have let us.”

“We should have taken away his flask. We should have done something. I saw and told myself he would heal. Instead he grew to hate us, to decide our torture. How could he be so cruel?”

“Nile said Quynn felt like rage and madness. Maybe his dreams affected him,” Joe suggested, only mildly surprised he was finding a defence for Booker. He would do anything for his heart, even if it meant offering an understanding of a man he hated. 

Though he supposed he didn’t really hate him. He was angry and hurting, but he couldn’t actually hate the man. Somehow Nicky’s words had seen to that. Because they had seen him falling for decades, despite their efforts to catch him. He seemed to believe he deserved misery, just like Andy. Nicky and himself had tried so hard to show them goodness in the world, to keep them laughing and smiling. Their ridiculous searches for the right baklava. Their insistence that meals be eaten in the same room, if not the same table. The rule about having a way to contact them always so no one was lost, regardless of how many burner phones it cost them. 

“I was always willing to listen, no matter the time,” Nicky said. “I don’t want to see him again. I can’t even stand to look at him.”

Joe sighed. “I know that’s not true. You sat with him in the car.”

Nicky turned to rest his head in his hands, elbows digging into his knees.

“San Paulo could have been you swinging in, but you stayed with Booker. You knew my feelings and you stayed with him, like old times.” He could hear a faint scoffing sound from Nicky, but continued. “You got in the car first, knowing he’d sit next to you, knowing you wouldn’t stab him in the backseat. Your heart is too good.”

“It doesn’t feel that way,” came the muffled reply.

“That’s because you will feel pain where I feel anger. You don’t want to see him because he caused us pain. But you want to see him because you can’t stand him in pain. I’m just pissed off.”

There’s no missing the laugh.

Nicky looked at him then. 

“Yes, but you don’t stay pissed off for long anymore.”

Joe smiled. “I blame you for that. How about I be the pissed off one who doesn’t want to see him and you be the caring one who already forgives him? Divide and conquer.”

“I haven’t forgiven him yet.”

“Well, I’m bound to be less pissed off soon so you’re going to have to choose. Or give me a reason to be angry again.”

Nicky gave him a long look. “Maybe I just need time.”

“Then that is what you shall have.” Joe’s smile grew, noticing the calm coming over his love. 

“I feel as though I almost lost you today. Tonight I wanted to remind myself we’re alive and so is the world.”

Perhaps the moment required a different response, but Joe decided his Nicky deserved more laughter. He was always so serious. 

“I am here, Nicolo,” he said in arabic, knowing Nicky would pick up the significance of using his native language. “Nine centuries have not freed you of me, and now that you owe me, I can never leave.”

Nicky looked at him curiously. 

“That was my favourite cap, I’ll have you know.”

They both laugh loudly. Stress and tension finally leave the pair.

“Your favourite?”

“It was my lucky mission hat. Well, mostly lucky.”

More laughter. 

“Perhaps I will never clear my debt,” Nicky said. “Then you will always be with me.”

“Ah, but then how will I get lucky?”

Nicky’s expression shifted, ever so slightly to be coy. “Oh, I think we can figure that out.”

“Like a payment plan?”

Joe barely got out another chuckle before Nicky leaned over to kiss him. “A very long term payment plan.”

It was certainly late afternoon by time the couple strolled into the pub. Andy and Nile were already at a table. Booker was standing near a backdoor, but walked out to the back balcony when they caught his eye. The discussion isn’t long. Nile pushed for a simple apology. Nicky suggested 125 years, proposing that perhaps what Booker needs is enough time alone to sort himself out and that perhaps Andy could use more time away from his negative influence. Joe suggested less, mostly because he knew Nicky would eventually regret demanding so much since he’s still hurting. Andy offered 50, but won’t elaborate on how she chose her number. Finally they decided on 100 years apart. Booker took the news well. 

Later, at Copely’s house, Joe and Nicky got a look at the man’s research into their lives. Joe decided he liked Nile even more when she mentioned that this might be the reason Andy had been looking for, unintentionally lending support to Nicky’s long-held and briefly doubted belief they put good back in the world. The board is a testament to his love’s stance. Joe looked at the news clippings and old photos, reminded of all they had accomplished, and felt a wave of pride. 

How far they had come. He didn’t care how much time they had left. Nicky had said one day their time would come and there was no fighting it or forcing it. But he could live like this. Putting good back in the world. Fighting for what they felt was right. Because Nicky had been right. 

Not about the road to the Eurotunnel, of course. Joe still contended he remembered the routes better. But they could agree to disagree about that. Some roads were like that.

**Author's Note:**

> Had this idea for awhile. Kept rattling about so I decided to write it down.
> 
> I am not an expert on travelling in Europe or, more specifically, from London to Paris. Apparently it can be done by car using the Euro Tunnel. Or so the internet led me to believe. I apologize if this is not true and will blame the movie for making it seem like that's how Andy, Nile and Booker got from Paris to London. At least Nicky and Joe got a nice plane for their ride-- there was a TV too.


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